KInk Texts
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Jane should have never thought Annie how to pickpocket. Now, there will be hell to pay form him, and Teresa Lisbon knows a way that can't fail... M Rated!


**Disclaimers: **No, nor the characters or the show belong to me...

note: M RATED! M RATED! M RATED! Rothelena, you hear me? that's for you!

* * *

She wasn't stupid. Lisbon was a good detective, she had made a name for herself, even before meeting Jane, and she had had, even since a young agent, people working under her. She was good at her work.

So, she knew. She had known immediately.

Tommy's malware was still in its place. The brat she called a brother and whom she had raised like her own child was actually spying on her, reading her texts and listening to her calls.

He had to pay. He had to learn to never do such a thing, ever.

The same could be said about the man who had made her life a living hell from day one, the pain in her ass that humanity defined "Patrick Jane".

The jerk had thought Annie to pickpocket. And they had decided to stay in contact. Because he wanted to teach her how to manipulate the rest of mankind (also because he wanted to get information on her youth). The jerk. The absolute jerk!

And… well, there was a way to punish the both of them, at the same time.

She grinned, blushing, and she started to play absently with her Blackberry.

* * *

It was late night, almost her was road was filled with darkness and silence. The rest of the State was slowly succumbing to sleep, with, maybe, the exception of few youths. Spread on her bed, she was wearing her usual sleep attire, although sleep couldn't be more distant in her thoughts. She started to press the tiny buttons of her mobile, grinning, already foretasting what was to come, because she knew: there was no way that Jane could guess what was going through her mind.

_You could have sent me to the spa as well. Like I didn't need to rest between you and Tommy. _

The reply arrived quickly, long before she was actually expecting- after all, Jane was barely technology-friendly, let alone used to the art of texting.

_C'mon, we haven't been that mad. And you would have guessed my plan all along, and I couldn't risk you spoiling things for me. _

She smiled. Her opening was arriving, and Jane was probably still grinning like an idiot, thinking of having the upper hand once again. Well, she was going to teach him a lesson he wasn't going to forget any time soon.

_Well, you stressed me a lot, and now I need something to release all this pent-up tension. _

_I thought you did yoga. Should be good for the muscles._

He was probably laughing, the idiot. Well, he wasn't going to laugh for much longer…

_Not these muscles. I'd need the teacher's help, but… _

She didn't add anything else, she wanted for him to read it as he liked.

_That bad? _He asked, and Teresa grinned: he had red it innocently enough. Now… it was time to start playing seriously. Those two idiots weren't going to see that coming.

_I could do it for hours if he had enough stamina. Too bad he is gay…_

She grinned-actually, if she was being honest, she was on the verge of pure laughter. She could imagine eyeing the cell like it was some unknown and weir object to be scared of, knowing now exactly what she was talking about. He was going to be so embarrassed that he'd be on his best behavior for at least a whole month.

No reply came- she had guessed as much, knowing Jane, the man who was still celibate after losing his wife over eight years prior – so she texted him again.

_I would have loved to be at a spa with him_, _maybe a sauna_…

Was she supposed to go on after that? She didn't even know what she was supposed to write… she was going to sexting Jane, about another man and the fantasy she had had with and about him, and it was something she had never done.

Then, he replied.

_If he wasn't gay. But he is. But if he wasn't…. and you were there with him…_

She looked at the small screen quizzically. She wondered what those three last points could mean, she wondered if maybe, maybe… maybe he wanted to know what she had planned in her fantasy for the guy.

Was the mighty Patrick Jane horny, and because of _her? _

Oh, well, since they were playing, let's play. Just to see how far he was willing to go, how much he could stand.

Well, if I was there with him right about now…

She sent it, then waited a short while, long enough to build up a bit of tension. Or maybe she wanted to let him believe she was going to stop the game, maybe she just wanted to frustrate him while he was horny. She wasn't sure. She just knew that she wanted to play with Jane, having fun with him, and that her panties were starting to become terribly uncomfortable, so wet with her arousal they were almost already drenched.

Lifting her jersey to uncover her breasts, she got rid of her underwear, moaning at loud afterward, feeling free, part of the discomfort gone, the need to be filled the only thing remaining running through her system.

_I tease him through the towel, palming his cock and squeezing it. I keep this up for a while, until I can't see the tip of his dick out of the waistband. I tease him some more, scratching the head with a fingernail, enjoying the sticky and velvety feeling of the precum on my fingertip._

She stopped. Her telephone allowed so much more letters than many other models, but there was so much room and beside… she was horny. She needed to come and to do so she needed her own touch.

She had barely gotten to the point that she was about to part her folds with her fingers, after having mapped a good part of her chest, taking particular attention to her nipples, when the reply came, _Go on, _so she decided to postpone her own pleasure to allow Jane to have his "trip". After all, she had been the one starting the game. It was up to her to end it.

_I take off the towel with a swift move, kissing every inch of skin until I am on knees, my face on level with your cock. It's hot and huge and hard, and lick my lips again and again, because I've always liked an hard ride. You cup my face, stroking my skin tenderly, I ask you if you want to see me naked while I milk you dry…_

She stopped and lazily fingered herself, teasing her entrance a bit, getting suddenly worried, noticing for the first time that she had moved to speak to Jane directly, referring to him as the man of her fantasy…. She hoped he wasn't too much for him, that she wasn't going to scare him away.

She knew he was still game when, a while later, he answered.

_You shouldn't even ask, hon. You know how much I love your full tits, taking them in my hands and hardening the nipples, and don't make my start with the fur at the juncture of your legs! I cannot believe there are men not liking it. it's so erotic, knowing that your wet pussy is behind it, and having it around my tongue…. Reese, I'll never have enough of this feeling!_

Her eyes widened, breathing and heartbeat accelerated. What he was saying, how he was saying it, it sounded like he had already thought about it, pictured it in his mind, more than once.

She simply had to answer him. it was Jane's reward for his filthy thoughts about her. and she was so hot for him… she had to answer. For both their sake.

_I lick it from tip to balls and back again and again. When I put my tongue in the tiny slit, playing with your precum, you get impatient, and grab my hair, impaling my mouth on your cock. It goes so deep in my throat, I have to struggle a minute to get back my control, but when I do, I start sucking, swirling my tongue round your dick, hallowing my cheeks for the effort. And you keep fucking my mouth, forcing your way into my mouth! _

She paused again and while waiting for Jane's reply, she rubbed her flat hand on her wet sex, moaning out loud; she wasn't satisfied though, but she didn't feel like fingering herself, nor using her trusty vibrator, so, she rubbed Jane's substitute on her sex, her phone, covering it with her juices, until… until, just there, against her clit, it vibrates, and screaming his name she come, wetting the phone furthermore.

_I copiously come in your mouth, you milk me dry but there's so much cum you can't eat it all. it runs on your skin, covering your chin, your neck…_

She looked at the screen adoringly, and thinking of them fucking, she licked the screen clean, enjoying her sweet taste. She was still moaning because of the aftershocks when she texted him back.

_You come like a volcano, and it's so good that I come with you! I rub your semen on my whole body, but paying special attention to my nipples. Then, I lick my hands clean, and I've come so much for you that I'm on the verge of passing out! _

She smiled, and wasn't expecting a reply, _ that still, though, came. _

_You are a saint even when it comes to sex, thinking of my own need before of yours. But don't worry, next time you'll get your fill. _

Few words, and she was aroused again. And she had even forgot about Tommy in her passion. He could go to Hell, for all she cared about. All she thought about was the fact that she was sated and glowing and exhausted in such a good way.

* * *

He was lazily reflecting on his couch in the bullpen, alone and on his own, when the first text come. Few words, telling him she would have loved to be with her niece when she had been to the spa. It wasn't like he hadn't guessed as much. Yes, Lisbon wasn't the spa usual type of girl, but she was ok with relaxing luxury every now and then- probably one of the reasons of her one night stands with Mashburn every now and then, something, he had to admit, made him see red, filling his heart with a mixture with hate and possession and longing he had never thought possible after his wife's death.

He sent her his reply, remembering her that she usually was ok with him and his methods, and that at the end she had kind of helped her brother, and that he had even been on his best (recent) behavior, and when she got her reply, he could almost see her pout.

He groaned. He didn't like thinking about her pouting- and look at her doing so in real life- for it awoke fantasies he had no business thinking about, that tended to make him uncomfortable. Thinking of her lips made think about her doing dirty things with her lips, her tongue working mercilessly on his cock, and thinking about it… well, it usually led to him escaping to either his attic or a bathroom to jerk off while imagining fucking Lisbon at the office.

He was already aiming at his fly when he remembered that Lisbon hadn't been texting him about his sexual urges, and yes, she was being childish, but so was he the majority of the time, and answering was the least he could do -at least, she couldn't say he wasn't polite- so he suggested yoga. After all, she was already following a class, along with Grace, twice a week.

He was almost asleep when his phone vibrated with her answer, saying something about muscles being in such a bad shape that she needed the teacher's help with that. He smiled, asked her just that (that bad), and grinned while he typed. He knew that the guy was, from the tales in the kitchenette, "eye-candy" and that Lisbon had had a huge crush on him, a crush that… crushed her when, while asking him out, she had been stopped by the arrival of a Norse God French-kissing the object of her attention.

He didn't grin when her answer came, for he wasn't sure what she meant, or what she was expecting as an answer. _If _she was expecting an answer at all from him. _if _ she meant what seemed to mean. Which he wasn't sure. His mind and his cock weren't exactly too good when they had to work at the same time, and when his cock was hard because of the brunette, he could hardly concentrate if not in imagining her sucking him dry (covered with chocolate and cream and strawberries ice cream) or riding him while sitting on her chair.

Something she could do for hours, but wasn't sure lover boy could, unless he had enough stamina… he wasn't imagining a sexual reference, right? She had to be thinking about sex. She was texting him about sex. What the hell? Lisbon didn't do such a thing. With the exception of few one night stands (male always on top, just one orgasm when she is lucky enough to have one, and always with his cock, and no, zero foreplay, especially for her) she was more or less a prude.

Unless..

Unless, what? He had to stop imagining things. Lisbon didn't want to fuck him. He wasn't her kind of guy. Too dangerous. And she knew (well, she thought she did. He wasn't going to tell her he wasn't available because he had spent the last couple of years getting off thinking about her and her alone) he wasn't emotionally available, despite his "flirts" with Kristina and Erika (and few other black widows to prove their faults).

Time passed. He thought she had stopped, had had enough, proved whatever she wanted to prove, and then… another one. about how much she had desired to be there with the guy. How much she had dreamt to take the sauna with him, was he straight.

Yes, she was talking about sex. With him. about her sexual fantasies, to be more accurate. Which it meant, that, if she wasn't playing him (him, a mark, because of sex? Was it even possible for her to turn the cards in such a way?) she _wanted _to play with him. As in…

He sent her his next text. It wasn't direct, but subtle. He was sure she was going to understand what he meant. She had to. It was the only way to keep playing, and he was hoping she would progress. His body needed to know her story, he needed to imagine her words with his mind's eye, to increase the sensations while slowly, but forcefully, pumping his cock -pants and underwear were already out of the way, his cock was slapping against his stomach, and he hadn't even registered all these things, so engrossed he was in imagining Lisbon doing dirty things with her elf-like body.

He asked her, what if he was going to there with you? What if he wasn't gay? And waited. And waited. And waited some more. He had actually lost all hope, was sure she had conned him, when she answered him. it was a sentence, innocent, even, but taken in the right context, it meant… it suggested all kind of dirty and kinky things. And despite the appearances, he was a man who loved kinks. With a passion.

He didn't reply, didn't want to let her know how powerful a simple, short, and apparently innocuous sentence, was, but still, he had already taken in one hand his cock, simply holding it, waiting for her reply, for her to move on-. Also, he was guessing her game, that she wanted to build the tension, increase the sensations for the both of them, especially for him. that was Lisbon, always thinking to the others first, even when it came to sex. She sent him her reply, and that, that was indeed dirty, and accurate in its description, and, strange enough, it narrated close to perfection one of his favorite fantasies about pouting Lisbon.

Lisbon described how she was going to tease her teacher's cock, hidden by the towel, cupping and squeezing it. she told him about how she would have removed said towel once the tip would be visible from the waistband, just to squeeze it some more, and playing with the slit then, getting all the precum she could dream of.

The text stopped, it wasn't weird, because it was already quite long, and besides, it gave him time to take in his hand his steely hard-on and move the skin up and down, sliding his hand, slick with precum, up and down his girth, imagining her doing so to him. he was in the sauna with her, and not the other guy. And he knew. He knew she knew, that was why they were playing.

And then, he wasn't enough. Lisbon hadn't bothered keeping the texts up, and, even if he had dreamt of her doing that very thing more than once, it wasn't enough any longer, he needed to know how she would have progressed. He knew her, and he could imagine why she wasn't answering, if she was in the same state as him, she was probably struggling with masturbating and managing her phone, a model that requested both thumbs to digit, but frankly, he didn't care.

She had gotten him all hard, hot and bothered, and now she had to do something about it.; he begged her to move on with her story, and after a short while, she answered. He breathed in relief, tightening the grip on his cock, like he was finally going to have his orgasm, like he had won some great prize.

She described how she was going to get on her knees to lick the cock, but, halfway with her story, his eyes watered, and he gasped, for Lisbon had stopped saying "he" , "him" and "his". .. you, she was always saying "your" and "your", referring to him and him alone. In her dream, she was asking Jane if he wanted her naked for her little number. At the mere thought of her thinking about him, knowing it now for sure, he gripped his cock so forcefully it almost hurt, and he imagined her body clenching around him, her wet pussy welcoming him, stretching in the vain attempt to accommodate his dick, close to tearing.

He told her what he would have told in reality, what he had dreamt of telling her, even if it took a long while, texting with one hand and with semi-closed eyes while he still lazily pumped his cock; he told her (commanded her, actually) that yes, he wanted to see her naked, wanted to take her breasts in his hands and harden her nipples until they didn't hurt, and wanted to see the fur at the juncture of her legs. He had over-seen her naked once, and he knew she kept it that way for many reasons, like he knew many men found it disgusting; but he didn't. it was part of her, and knowing that her precious pussy was hidden behind it! he found it arousing. Sometimes, he could get off only thinking about tongue-fucking her through that soft, dark hairs.

She answered, and she told him how she was going to lick him with just the tip of her tongue, up and down, so many times she would drive him crazy, so crazy that he would lose all semblance of patience and just fuck her mouth, forcing his cock down her throat, so deep she would almost gag, but just almost. But Lisbon was a professional. He could see her sucking him dry, hallowing her cheeks while sucking, moaning in pleasure while he kept his harsh fucking rhythm up.

Lisbon stopped texting, even if at this point it felt more like sexting, and he used the time to think about a reply, and to dream. He imagine the Lisbon from the fantasy, and the real one. he could see her naked on her bed, masturbating. He imagined her with her phone in her hands, not knowing what to do with it, and then… then, rubbing it on her clit. Oh, lord. Lisbon was surely masturbating with her phone… a phone set on vibration. He just… thinking about her phone vibrating on her clit, on her pussy… making her come with even just a word….

He felt his balls tightening, and hurt like hell. They were boiling, and he knew it was time; he turned, his chest toward the back of the couch, and picking up the tempo, he pumped a little more his cock, until, spur after spur, he emptied himself against the pillows. Still no reply, he looked with utter fascination at the white stain, the velvety liquid covering his hands and his pants as well, and, suddenly, without actually knowing why he was doing it, he licked the stains away from the leather, dreaming of kissing Lisbon on the lips, tasting himself on the tip of her tongue.

He told her how he would have come, transforming the reality in a fantasy and adapting it to their game, and after a short while she replied yet again, telling him she would have rubbed his semen all over her body, how she would have loved to have it on her tits, how she would have come by licking the stuff away from her hands… It was such an erotic tale, that he felt himself getting harder yet again, after such a short while.

He looked ta his cock, and smiled, and thought about her, what she had done in her dreams, and what she would have loved in the reality, and realized what a good person she was. Yes, he knew it already, but…. Lisbon was good with the others even in bed.

He told her so in his next text, promising g to be good with her the next time, and turned his phone off, ready to spend a little bit of time in his attic. He had to compose himself before going to look for her.

* * *

It was over an hour past her sexting session that someone knocked at her door frantically; even if her sleep-induced haze, she run through the door, and opened it, just to be sent against the closest wall by a pair of strong arms, her mouth suddenly occupied with the dirtiest and most lust-filled kiss she had ever had in her whole life, her hands running through golden curls all on their own, mapping his body while he devoured her, inch by inch.

Jane pressed his lower body against her, and she felt his need against her abdomen, his cock huge and as hard as steel, barely contained by his slacks, she moaned and purred, her eyes glassy, ecstatic at the idea of being filled by such perfection, scared by his dimensions. She was almost positive that there was no way she could accommodate that mammoth thing between her legs.

"Oh, don't think you can escape, Reese… it's because of your texts that I have a permanent hard on the size of a skyscraper. I tried to get rid of it…. but the more I come, the harder I get afterwards thinking about what you told me. " he paused, biting the skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, while her hands roamed all along his form, grabbing his ass to bring him even closer. "Now you'll have to get rid of it. Just like you told me!"

The breath died in her throat as she went on her knees, slowly undoing his belt and opening the buttons, taking off with just one move both slacks and underwear; he sprang free, and from this prospective, he was huger than what she had imagined, purple with need. It was already oozing precum, and was still sticky, for all the times Jane had come in the last hour alone. Oh god, she thought… he had been so aroused to come in his own pants, so aroused to lose completely control, him, the master of biofeedback… and all because of her.

"Get naked, Reese… I want to see your tits and your spread legs when I fuck your mouth…" she moved to take her jersey off, but her hands were trembling for arousal and for the anticipation, and Jane wasn't in the mood, so he simply made it in pieces, sending the buttons everywhere; he couldn't care less, he just grinned like a satisfied maniac when he saw that she was indeed like he had pictured her in his fantasies, dark fur at the juncture of her legs and breasts that, although quite big, weren't disproportioned, the right size to fill his hands, with long nipples that were perfect to suck in his mouth while riding her.

She licked, with just the tip of her tongue, his cock, from head to balls and then back, and repeated the motion another couple of times, never stopping to look at his face, eyes closed, lips parted. It was very slow, and in the same way she penetrated the tiny slit, trying to get as much precum as she could. Jane was trembling, lamenting a little, a tiny frustrated. For him, oral sex wasn't foreplay, she could sense it, if it had the world fuck, it was fucking, this was foreplay, and he was having enough.

With his eyes still closed, her grabbed her for her hair, and impaled her mouth on his cock, without even preparing Lisbon, although that had always been part of the plan; he was so big, he went so deep in her throat that she had to struggle to remain composed, not to gag. It was hard, so hard, though, because Jane kept her head steady, and ruthlessly fucked her mouth, surging in, leaving the wet confines of her body just to thrust in once again and again, hard and fast.

She went to touch herself, but he stopped her with a movement of his knee as soon as he got her intentions, and he roared his rage. "I'm fucking your mouth! This is about me! you don't get to come unless I tell you to!"

She got even wetter, if that was possible, but somehow, it gave her the strength necessary to take the game in her hands, at least in part. She started to suck him, hard, hallowing her cheeks for the effort, deep, tracing inside her mouth his girth with her tongue at the same time; she sucked him so deep, and so strongly, that as much as tried to keep up the fucking movement inside her mouth, he couldn't leave her body: he was damned to let her drink his juice.

He let it go, filling the air with his screams of ecstasy, doubling for the effort, his abdomen hurting so much he had already came and was still coming for her, and making her come, without even a single touch; like he had predicted, her erupted like a volcano, and filled soon her mouth, and as much as tried to drink him whole, rivulets escaped, running on her chin and her chest. Still drinking him in, she ran her hands along her body, covering as much as she could with his semen, enjoying particularly the sensation of it on her nipples.

She let it go of his cock, and, looking at it, dreamy, with hoody bedroom eyes, she was grateful to found it still half-hard. It looked like Jane was right. The more he came, the harder it got, and every time, it always took less and less time: in fact, it came back to full life as soon as the mentalist saw her licking her hands clean, moaning when the taste of his cum hit her taste buds once again.

"Well, now that you've been so nice to think about me… shall we do something for my lady as well?" he looked at her with intent, his eyes focused on her pussy, glistering, even with the fur, with her juices. She knew what he had in mind, and she didn't like it. he told her that he wanted to make her happy, and here he was, making real a fantasy of his. He could forget about it.

"Actually, Jane, I think that I want you to sit on my couch so that I can straddle your thighs and fuck you on top…" she giggled, and run toward the couch; enchanted, Jane stared at her ass, the ass he knew he was going to grab in no time, and in his mind he could already see himself bending her on her desk, and fuck her from behind… or in the ass. who knew if Lisbon had already been fucked in the ass? she didn't seem to have problems with intimacy, but maybe… Well, it didn't matter, as he was going to do it, one day.

He sat, and immediately Teresa straddled his legs; her hand went to his length, and, squeezing it up and down, she moved it to her entrance, there was still cum, and there was brand new precum as well, and she lubricated her entrance, and only after a long minute of keeping him in her hand she moved his girth to her entrance, and impaled herself on him, her breath dying in her throat once again as he filled her so much, beyond reason. Their eyes were glued were to the point where they were joined, and immediately Jane started to thrust upward, hard and fast, in the same way he had fucked her mouth; he grabbed her ass, and pushed her towards him with each new movement, enforcing the sensation and the motion for the both of them.

They were being so hard, so fast, that her breasts were slapping his face; he kept staring at them, his heart's desire for so long, the companions of many of his couch fantasies, and of strolls in the bathroom when the desire was just too much for his mind alone; he bit her right nipple, scratching it with his teeth, playing with is, sucking it until it hurt, but she didn't care, quite the opposite: Lisbon grabbed his curls, and forced him closer and closer, suggesting even a bit more of force.

He got even bigger, it was so big she was almost hurting, she was close to the point of tearing, but she didn't care: all she cared about was having him in her, was getting off, preferably at the same time as Jane.

"Came for me, Jane…" she begged, and lifting his eyes from her breasts to look at Lisbon, he did as she told him, coming copiously in her core, his cock still hitting her cervix, still scratching her clit with each new gush of semen he spent in her. she lazily reached for her core, fingering herself as he fucked her, her fingers skimming over his cock, and come, screaming his name, covering them with both their mixed juices.

"So… I got you hard and bothered at the office, eh?" she asked once she could breath again, playing with his chest hairs, scratching lightly the skin and his nipples, his cock, finally spent, still lazily embodied within her.

"Yeah… it was so good I started jerking off without even noticing it. I just had to pump my cock… but I didn't understand what I was doing until I saw the back of the couch spattered with my seed, stains on my clothes, and my hands sticky and wet…"

"Your cum has dried on your couch!?" she demanded, ecstatic, as happy as a child; there was something of utterly erotic, in sitting where he had come, especially since the place was supposed to be taboo.

"Uh, Uh. But, I'm sorry Teresa, I licked it clean. I imagined you doing so." he grinned, remembering how he had tasted himself for the first time, knowing that Teresa would have loved to kiss him, even after having just drank him, milked his cock dry.

"Well, than" she told him, lowering herself to tenderly kiss his lips "I guess we'll have to Christen it again…"


End file.
